Titan tips over.

Bud has fallen. Twice. He is in the hospital living out act three of the existential comedy. Is the best case scenario that we live long enough to be made utterly miserable at every turn? Strange indignities and the ceaseless decline of skills? We asked him to stop driving after the first fall. We suppose that the second fall was not in direct response to the loss of his American right to the road.

Hopelessness has a way of creeping up on me. Sad that this photo, the first time Bud met Tom was the first picture of him I found. Tom is early in act one of the same play.

Fuck.

Back to the Old Testament: Casino for the Older, Uglier and more Crippled

Again, I find myself at a casino. Again I question my motives. Am I hastening the apocolypse or just promoting harmless gaming? The casino in question is the "old Casino" down the road from the new, mega-giagantic casino. The clientele are, if possible, older and more malformed than the other casino. Because of this, the gulf between the patrons and the tall, perfect and beautiful models seems so much more unattainable and the dissonance more noticeable.

One chain smoking woman of about seventy laughed when she saw the models. She told me that if they wanted to sell fantasy they should show someone winning.

One frustrating thing is I don't really do audio on these jobs, it's more staying out of the way and providing scratch tracks. It isn't terribly satisfying way to do your job. I also move lights and c-stands with the cool kids in the clique but I never really feel a part of them anymore.




My camera battery died but there was a slot machine titled "Prophecy" and that seemed strangely at home in this place.

I wonder about the DP, who is an eminently moral man. How does he justify working on these spots.

UPDATE:
I no longer will do casino spots. I feel good about this. I ask my kids to make moral choices regarding their behavior and their values. I should do the same for myself.

Insurance :Unexpectedly Interesting.

Two short days for a national life insurance company. The in house shoot was a truly nice guy and frankly and unexpectedly, the President of said insurance company was really an interesting and down to earth guy. They had a small meeting of a group from all levels of the company to chart a new path for changing a 100 year old company back to a more agile, up to date entity. There is of course much cynicism on my part about this sort of thing but I was impressed by their candor and genuine enthusiasm starting from their president on down. It was actually sort of inspiring.

Microsoft Talking Head

Also deleted photo, but it was particularly boring because it was of my cart. Nothing new here. Quick day. Had pot roast for dinner. Here too is a random image with no connection whatsoever.

More More Talking Heads (with ersatz teleprompter)

Another day of hospital administrators with ties speaking in monotone. This time with a crudely rigged paper cue card teleprompter. It worked fine and every one was happy. Short day. Ate a mediocre burrito following the shoot. Sadly I deleted the photos before I could upload them. Bad Jim. Here is a random image

More Talking Heads

It continues. Doctors with ties. Sitting in chairs. Speaking in monotone. Meters moving. Microphone dangling. I fight the nap ghost.

Billings MT

I love Montana. I am a proud graduate of it's fine university system. I would like to live there again some day.

However the food in Billings sucked on this trip.

We shot another hospital administrator who wore a tie. He was an adviser to Max Bacus on Health Care Reform, presumably helping Senator BlueDog dilute, neuter and generally destroy the last best chance for real health care reform into a tasteless pudding of mandates and gibberish that the other guys will gut and mock for generations . Now I feel bad about that too. And Bacus used to be the good senator from MT.

Retail Shoe Cult

Many Days Spent on the worshipful altar of Retail Sales. I spent a couple years working as an editor for a small production company that worked on a variety of videos for a large well known corporate retail clothes and shoe store. The job was great but the store was like a customer service cult. It was very successful, but creepy. This job has been one of my first trips back into that environment and strangely today (day 2) it was a strong reminder that the corrupt system of the hamster wheel of fashion and consumer want / need to be trendy was a major reason that I left that otherwise stable job. The level of devotion of these people to the life of selling clothes and shoes is damn frightening. It is a bedrock basic almost spiritual drive with them.
I understand that people will want to wear clothes. And if they wear clothes they should be pretty or make people attractive but the diabolical devil in the details here is the small crack this opens up to exploit people's desire to be attractive to others and people's insecurities about their appearance. The constant need to update and buy more to make you that much more appealing to others or to just feel good about yourself rather than those attributes coming from the inside makes "fashion" an unending hamster wheel. The quality of the clothes is great and if you buy something from a store it's wonderful to have helpful and nice customer service, but the cult-like fawning over people in order to get them to buy more and to create a lasting contact (convert? proselyte?) to the store's "way of life" seems almost frightening.

Fashion is an empty suit.

Oh Yeah, I shot Festival Mexicanos in Wennachee With Tante Ricky

I forgot. I also worked with one of my top seven people on the earth, Tante Ricky Barnez at the Wennatchee Festival Mexicanos for huge mega corporate bank. It was pretty fun, though Rick didn't want to stop to eat. We shot a lot of mouth watering Mexican food but ate none of it. We did eat a fine meal late at Fran and Phil's, Norwegian American Refugees from Ballard.

Rick drove. I complained.

Big Dam Boat

I worked for Holland America Line today aboard the MS Amsterdam. We shot in the bridge and engine rooms. It was cool. We had sushi and listened to a sad cover band on the Lido deck. They played "too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you." I mentioned "Deer Hunter". Nobody knew what the hell I was talking about. Forgot my phone. Took no pictures. This is a picture of the ship that brought my family to America in 1859, the SS Atalanta.

Why Evaporation?

Because much of the time I feel like I am dissipating into a gas. I am becoming increasingly diffuse and abstract and make less sense even to myself. More frequently I am at a loss for words or can not find the word or name for something and I feel lost for an instant. I take little joy in anything anymore but I am not what would be called depressed: I feel more like I am leaving slowly, evaporating.

This picture of Tom makes me really sad. A gulag hair cut on a cute little person who suddenly doesn't want to be on the beach.

Salt Lake City

Flew to Salt Lake. Shot one interview with a hospital administrator. Left immediately.

Salt Lake is actually more diverse and interesting than I expected. I'm sorry I didn't get to see anything other than a conference room and a man with a tie.

Indian Casino. Watching in Fast Forward.

Once or twice a year I do three day shoots at an area Tribal Casino. A big, luxurious tribal casino, doing basic audio (they only want the yells of excitement and clapping- nothing else) and gripping. Gripping is a young man's sport. My best gripping days are long past but I know the job.

The casino is now a well known adversary. It is a morally corrupt, surreal carnival of harlotry populated by really nice people, who look and act like my parents (if they were chain smokers and heavy drinkers.) My old testament attitude about casinos kept me off these jobs for several years, but 2009 was a rough year so I stopped avoiding the siren's call. I used to say that I would not do casinos, republicans or porn. I now have done two of the three. High morals are great. Paychecks are great too.

The spots are really simple. Beautiful young people dress up and play slots and table games, having loud and boisterous fun. Nobody in the casino has fun like these beautiful people, in fact the old, chain smoking people do their level best not to crack so much as a smile while they play their solitary slots. The beautiful, large breasted, high heeled models have so damn much fun it hurts to watch. They are constantly adjusting their strapless evening gowns in the most lascivious ways imaginable. Their chiseled, handsome menfolk also high five with a certain intensity saved for professional sports playoffs. Very few of the actual casino patrons watch us shoot which always surprises me, production always being a draw for passing crowds- they are too busy and wrapped up in losing this month's rent or social security check. I watched a woman with Parkinsons lose $200 on the $5 machine in ten minutes- it didn't seem to faze her. Frequently it starts to feel like a neon retirement home with cocktail waitresses.

It is also painfully obvious that the last rung of celebrity in this world is having your name or likeness used on a video slot machine: Elvira: Mistress of the Night, The Village People, Dean Martin and strangely "Star Wars" all had their own electronic theft devices sucking up disposable income from senior citizens.

Pictured, is me doing what a college graduate can do best: creating a "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea" water effect on the fake rocks of the pool while hiding behind deck chairs where the beautiful people cavort. I have a weird job.

Kitty Glitter: Says it all folks....

R.I.P. Mr. Ryan

Matt Ryan, father of Rob died today. He was a fine example of American dad-hood. As people of my parent's generation leave the mortal realm and it becomes increasingly evident that we are the adults, I become ever more pessimistic about the future. Speaking for myself I can't fill the shoes.

That's Ted Williams. I don't have a picture of Matt Ryan but they were the same era and species.

My evolutionary waterloo and the Infomercial du jour.

I spent two days gripping on an infomercial in Kirkland. It was for a single cup coffee maker like they have in hotel rooms. Infomercials used to be half hour shows where the budget and crews were large. They made up a fair percentage of my income at one time. The times changed and now an infomercial is 60 seconds or two minutes max. It probably makes sense when the name of the game is media buying. We shot with a Canon D5- the zeitgeist camera flavor of the month- a still camera that can shoot 1080P and makes a very pretty picture but is a wild pain in the ass to use. It is an odd feeling watching really talented DPs try and use these things. The AC (really a kid with a lexicon of nerd knowledge about the camera) actually had to use a paper towel to make the follow focus ring work. I was not doing audio, but that is the single worst problem with this camera- no audio inputs save the mini plug. It requires a double system, pretty much like the old film days, there by requiring me to purchase more expensive audio recorders. I really don't want to join this revolution. I want to just live in the old planet where I plugged into the camera and napped. I feel like the neanderthal presented with fire: I want to go back to cave and hope it goes away. Just bizarre.

At lunch I got the call that Carl had been in his motorcycle wreck, a terrible cell connection where all I could hear was "accident- ER- Omak"
It was all good fun.

Old Biker Dude Hospitalized.

Carl Dennis Smith wrapped his bad ass Harley around a UPS truck in the middle of BFE near Omak yesterday. He is going to be okay but the crusty old bastard gave us a scare. He shattered his left ankle and had to be flown back to Seattle for surgery. What a crappy way to spend vacation. It should be noted that he is the one and only follower of this blog so he has little taste or judgment. Get well Ralliegh.

Another Shoot where the questions arise...

So this one was kind of strange. This came up late and wasn't on anybody's radar; an xBox ad for Sounders Games on the JumboTron at Qwest field. When I was booked, one of the better directors in the Seattle area was attached to it and that made me very confident that it was going to be, if not memorable art, the production would be smooth and understandable. I got there and somehow the excellent director was producing and running b camera. Huh? Why? That's sort like Ingmar Bergman doing craft service. The concept as expressed by the clients seemed to change by the minute and it became direction by commitee through the hapless editor assigned to it. The sounders players were cool, but like all pro players they were like teenagers with short attention spans and limited acting abilities. I was pretty much just a grip on this one though they asked (nicely ) bring my audio package to capture the awesome performances.

Cross Country Vacation in Honda CR-V. Family Unit Survives Intact!

It was fun. That's what I will remember anyway. My family is swell. I like them. We survived close quarter living and smallish vehicle road trips. Pasco, WA, Bird Track Springs, OR, Baker City, OR, Antlers Guard Station, OR, Goldendale, WA, Portland OR. Many fine moments. Many stressful parenting events. I wish it were better planned and we had more exciting tales to tell but it didn't happen that way, and that's okay. True to form I missed some of the busiest work weeks in years while I was unavaialble. That's the life I have chosen.

Mike McGavick for Senate 2006! Aw screw it all and move to Bermuda...

I did a talking head for a financial statement for a major insurance underwriter yesterday. The speaker was Mike McGavick who ran for senate as a Rethuglican in 2006 against the equally uninspiring Maria Cantwell. He lost. I found it interesting that while he was quite personable and pleasant, he had ditched the state and in fact the nation he longed to publicly serve and moved to Bermuda. Do any of these people give a shit or if you have enough cash, the world is your playground?

Failing Orbit

As my disintegration into dust continues, here is a photograph of me in the American desert doing my impression of a teamster looking for the boxed lunches. He who once held such promise now holds a boom mic indifferently.

What a shame.

Jumbo Bowling Should be an Olympic Sport!

The City Night Out 2010.

As the reluctant Pigeon Point Neighborhood Council Co-Chair and Anti Social Dork I was not prepared for the entertainment of "the children". So, in desperation, resident child Tom and I developed "Jumbo Bowling" for a kid's activity at the neighborhood picnic. Bowling wasn't so interesting but knocking down a ten foot tall column of large green barrels proved fascinating to the youth of America.

The Stage Where Words Lose Their Meaning

A white limbo stage for a major cell phone service provider to announce their new contest. At least 75 takes with the copy varied slightly to satisfy a shadowy "legal" team off site. The on-camera talent began to say what we all heard as "When" when he was supposed to say "Win". He was unaware that he was doing it and at first I don't think he believed that he really was. Once convinced, he became hyper vigilant but still did it, as if he were trying to correct himself in the wrong direction. Suddenly all words were reduced to the guttural grunts and arbitrary clicks of our cave dwelling anscestors as we all listened intently to the most slight variation in pronunciations. It was like a deeply philosophical conversation over bong hits by 17 year olds.

It was an early wrap and we left the set up standing because we do it all over again for another company on Wednesday.

Microsoft Home of the Future and more people with their Head in Bags

I was an AC for a Microsoft shoot today. I am not by training or temperament an A.C., Assistant Camera people are usually very cool and interesting people. I am slow and dim witted, but have through years of study and exposure picked up just the bare minimum of skills to help me assist those in need of assistance. Aside from the Chinese puzzle box of the Arri 19mm Matte box it was a fine shoot. We shot in the "House of the Future" : a self consciously high tech carnival exhibit located in the Microsoft executive meeting center (Building 33 on the MSFT campus, near where I attended keggers in high school when the campus was a barren vacant lot.) They have items so high tech, designed to make easy tasks easier for people who are lazy: a counter top that will read your prescription bottle for you and tell you how many to take- for $25,000.00 I can read the label myself. They have a $ 10,000.00 internet connected bulletin board that will tell you when you can save $1 on pizza. If you bought one pizza a day, it would pay for itself in 27 years.

Producers Kathy and Janet are not Somali housewives hiding in a two headed shador. They are honoring the tradition of head bagging with the 9" monitor in the sun, shielded by Warren, the human c-stand and his foam core.

I dislike "Live Events" because they fail often.

Looking like an idiot in front of 250 people always sucks. Let me say this: I really try to avoid doing audio for live events, anything with a PA system or Video Conference feed or phone patch hook ups. I have not had good luck and it really isn't something I am interested in, or good at. I did one today as a favor for both John and Rick. It was generally okay and when it is happening it isn't much of a chore. True to the Mayan predictions of audio apocalypse, at one point a wireless mic died on the CFO of the company who's quarterly meeting were filming for web cast. Jim began his performance art presenation of running up to the stage and fumbling with mics and batteries until once again happiness and balance was restored to planet webcast. At worst it was 60 seconds of panic and 60 seconds of repair. Life continued after. I hate that two minutes so much that I will turn down work to avoid it.

I drink too much coffee.

Chinese American Heritage Tour of the West 2010 (With opening act: Molly Hatchet!)

Seven days in the American West on a shoot for the US Forest Service and the Wing Luke Asian Museum with the irreplaceable Mr. John "Johnny the Boot" Pai. John and I drove a strange and miserable rental vehicle (a "Jeep Compass") a couple thousand miles through some amazing landscapes of desolation to archeological sites through-out Oregon,Idaho and Nevada, following a tour group. I learned a great deal and am amazed that most of what I learned never was brought up in any discussion of US History I have ever had in school. The Chinese were deeply involved in the settling of the West and the building of this country and the ignorance and fear and unfairness of the Exclusion Acts were sometimes overwhelming to hear about. The 19th century was hard on many people, there was no real middle class and so the fear of some one different, who might be paid less, would be understandable if you had nothing yourself and were afraid that some one might take what you little you did have, but in no way does it justify what happened. Being concerned about wages and telling some one that they can not have their family with them are two different things. Frankly what became apparent by the end of the trip was that the whole unfair nightmare was being replayed right now in Arizona.

There was a fairly moving emotional moment in Baker City OR, at the Chines cemetery where the members of the tour held a ceremony honoring the forgotten Chinese laborers buried there. Incense and, reincarnation and paper items meant to represent wealth in the afterlife were burned in a metal box so that the tinder dry hillside would not go up in flames. There was a stone burnt offerings hut there for just such a purpose. These are rare apparently.

John and I spent a lot of time talking in the rental car and had to share hotel rooms. We ate a lot of shit. The food was bad. Had salty Basque food in Boise.

Virginia City NV is Disneyland for bikers and tourists. We ate mediocre pizza in the Red Dog Saloon while a blues rock band, consisting of what looked like microsoft engineers played almost every classic rock song on my ipod. They were okay. I was dismayed at the number of anti-government signs throughout Nevada. One bed sheet was spray painted and hung on a barbed wire fence: "Obama: your cult of personality has failed!"


Like almost all shoots, this was an excellent field trip , though most of the sound is flawed by the wind, or the bus or passing semi-trucks. This was filled with a great deal of beauty, some true ugliness and the loneliness of the American highway. I did miss my family.

More Sleeping on the Job and in Parks

Work: I spent two days doing doctor profiles for a medical center website. Audio and set up are easy, but again the fight is to stay awake, the irony is that I fell asleep while they were interviewing doctors from the sleep clinic.

Fun: Ned, Tom and three of Ned's friends and I spent the night camping at a cabin at Camp Long. Ned and his posse were out until 1:30 in the woods, climbing rocks and hanging around at the camp fire. The photo shows the outcome of the intersection of fire, pop can, giant marshmallows and 13 year old's fascination with burning things. It is not some kind of odd crack pipe. Ned's band-aids prove he was having a good time. Of course the camera battery died so this is the only record of what was a pretty fun camp out.

G.E.T. and the Man With His Head in a TV Tent.

Yesterday was a commercial for the Washington State Guaranteed Education Tuition program. It was nice. Small children were involved. The entire day the camera was on a 20' jib arm so the DP Geoff spent most of his working hours with his head in a bag looking at the monitor. On an audio note, the generator ran all day on the sidewalk making a lovely ambient noise that resembled a muffled chainsaw. We did note a strange occurrence that every time a car passed the generator the noise lessened by probably 25%: a phasing was taking place on the bounce back from the passing car. When a car parked or stopped it would get louder, so it was a natural noise canceling device.

The Original Teenager Writ Large Upon the Side of the Cave

When it's warm enough, which in Seattle is precious and rare nowadays, I subject my kids to backyard drive-in theater. I run silent films with Keaton and Chaplin, old Bullwinkle and Tennessee Tuxedo episodes and the occasional feature length oddity or western. It is presented as films are meant to be seen: on a clattering old Junior High School projector on a sheet on the side of the house. I own a 16mm print of "Rebel Without a Cause", which I screened for my 13 year old son and two of his buddies on Saturday night. The film broke, we had one frame of film burn in that miserable way film prints bubble and disintegrate. There were mosquitoes and bad popcorn. We had a long intermission. But, through all that they saw James Dean emote in the way only he could. Cool in a way nobody else ever will be cool again. They saw Natalie Wood in her finest moment. They saw just how weird Sal Mineo was, forever to be known as "the guy who killed the puppies". They saw the great chicken run sequence. Nicholas Ray was an American genius and RWC though it looks tame now was pretty interesting for 1955. Generally the kids liked it and it was a great experience, though I'm sure they would have liked more guns and explosions.

(the photo has Ned and his friends reacting to the camera flash and not nausea induced by 1950's melodrama)

Even though the film was from a previous generation, as a young man I really identified with the James Dean character in RWC. I doubt my son feels the same way, it probably is to him more like a bizarre look into the world 55 years ago. As I get older, I now see myself in the Jim Backus character of the weak, idiot father, fumbling in an apron trying to answer the most basic questions without a straight answer for anything. I liked it better when I saw myself as the cool guy.

Ned and Tom with Fire Sticks

Nothing else need be said.

Children arc welding to celebrate the casting off the aristocracy.